Vancouver

Making Sense of a Sandwich That is Worth the Drive to The Similkameen

STACKED is a Scout column that aims to dig down into the delicious details of Vancouver’s better sandwiches and burgers. From banh mi and burgers to sliders and reubens, the goal is to craft and catalog an archive of awesome that visitors and locals alike can reference when at their hungriest.

I just came back from a fully loaded trip to the Okanagan and Similkameen Valleys where I indulged in ridiculous amounts of good food and wine at the end of the Fall Okanagan Wine Festival. One of the most tasty things I tried was this deceptively simple ham and cheese sandwich from the little bistro kitchen attached to Cawston’s Harker’s Organics and Rustic Roots Winery. Dig in:

1. Spongy to hand and quick to chew, this aromatic, uniformly crusted (some sort of multi-grain) bread from the Keremeos’ own Bread Box Bakery was a great vehicle for this sandwich. Pillowy stuff, totally worthy of face-plants.

2. A nice kick of spice from this slightly oily layer of jalapeno havarti.

3. A middle finger thick stack of coaster-sliced organic ham from the good folks at Two Rivers. Lots of flavour here; as toothsome as it looks.

4. A smear of vegannaise — not sure why it wasn’t regular mayo with the ham and cheese ticking contrary boxes, but whatever. I didn’t even notice the taste of the stuff, but its natural viscosity probably helped with the swallowing, so…

5. Fresh spinach. Because spinach. Great colour! It was probably picked that morning less than a hundred feet from where I was eating it so its psychological impact on my impressionable palate likely doubled up its actual flavour contribution to the whole.

6. Thin slices of organic honey crisp apples, grown and harvested on site. These little dudes added the sweetness that this sandwich needed, plus some added textural complexity. They made each bite so much better.

7. A conservative spread of house-made red pepper jelly. A little went a long way with this stuff; it really resonated. Each bite saw a subtle, tickling hint of it. It never dominated; it just hung there beautifully, like the impossible high note in Handel’s Miserere (1:40).